


Taste Your Beating Heart

by amy_vic



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:18:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21640474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amy_vic/pseuds/amy_vic
Summary: streetsuss_serenade wrote a thing about human Nate kicking vampire Brad's ass, and I took it to its natural next step: groping, some feels, and a tiny bit of world-building.
Relationships: Brad Colbert/Nate Fick
Kudos: 34





	Taste Your Beating Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [streetsuss_serenade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/streetsuss_serenade/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Assorted Fic Snippets](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10877505) by [streetsuss_serenade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/streetsuss_serenade/pseuds/streetsuss_serenade). 

> So, streetsuss_serenade wrote that snippet and showed it to me and my brain immediately went, "ooh, I have Ideas to add on to this." I ran it by her and she was cool with it, so that's why the entire first half of this story may look familiar. (She also came up with the title for this, plus the summary, because she's awesome.)

Brad had been stronger than most people back when he’d been human, much less since he’d become a vampire, which is what made it so surprising to be knocked on his ass by a kid.

Brad tore himself free of the sweatshirt he was tangled in, fangs bared and ready to spring up and defend himself, only to find that the guy who’d thrown the sweatshirt and then shoved him surprisingly hard was simply standing there, arms crossed and glaring at him.

“Why can’t you just leave us alone?” the guy demanded.

Brad looked down the sidewalk, where the exhausted student he’d trailed out of the library was getting away, unaware of the danger he’d just escaped.

When he looked back at the guy who’d stopped him, the kid was doing his best impression of Brad’s third grade teacher, Mrs. Casey, who’d been perennially disappointed in him the entire year. The resemblance had to be why, instead of jumping to his feet and biting the wannabe vigilante, Brad said “ You know we can feed without killing you.”

The guy’s expression didn’t lighten. “Can you feed without traumatizing us?”

Brad closed his eyes against a dozen memories. The guy snorted “Didn’t think so.”

Pissed, Brad stood up. He saw the kid fight the urge to step back, and the kid rose in his estimation a few notches. “Yeah, well, you know what’s more traumatizing? Blood mania. Maybe you’ve heard of it? Starts with a massacre? Usually ends with a vampire dying a slow death via cruxifiction?”

Brad had rolled into a town a few years ago, shortly after a vampire had tried to go off of human blood completely. It hadn’t been a pretty sight. 19 dead, 31 wounded, and a vampire dying slowly in front of the police station, protected from the sun, so the cross he was nailed to could slowly eat through him.

The guy blinked. His eyelashes were unusually long. “I thought that as something that vamps…vampires…made up to feed off of us.”

“It isn’t,” Brad said curtly, turning to go. He did need to feed sooner rather than later, and he clearly needed to find a new hunting ground.”

“Wait!”

Brad turned back as the guy asked, “How does it work? The mania? What do you need to do to prevent it?”

No one had ever taught Brad about blood mania, exactly. Whichever asshole had sired him had been long gone by the time he woke up. He’d figured a lot out by trial and error, and picked up some bits and pieces from other demons along the way. Vampires tended to be solitary, but some of them had taken pity on him when he was newly made and explained the basics. At least enough to keep him from getting his ass dead (again.)

“Animal blood keeps us fed, but it only goes so far. We need human blood regularly or we lose…” Brad struggled to put it into words, “Whatever ‘us’ there is aside from the blood lust.”

The guy on front of Brad still looked disapproving, but the disapproval no longer looked like it was directed at Brad. He looked up, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. “But if that’s true…why don’t they….I mean, hospitals have blood.”

Brad shrugged, “In my experience, hospitals and blood banks prefer to use their blood reserves to save living people, not dead ones.”

The guy’s frown deepened. “Can’t you just ask someone to donate for you? You don’t need a lot, right?”

Brad laughed bitterly. “I can’t see a lot of people volunteering for that blood drive.”

“I would!” The guy protested, “I will.” He looked Brad square in the eye. “You’re here because you need to feed right? You can drink from me.”

Brad stared. Nothing about this night was going how he’d expected, but this was beyond the pale.

“Not here, obviously.” The guy gave Brad a lopsided smile, “I’m not that stupid. Can you wait?”

Brad nodded, still a little dazed.

“Good. The day after tomorrow? 8 pm?”

As if Brad had a robust social calendar he needed to balance. He nodded again.

“Okay, I live at the big house at the corner of 6th and Green. You know it?”

Brad found his voice, “The one with the flag hanging out of the second floor and the couch in the front yard?”

“That’s it.”

The guy stepped forward and stuck out his hand, “By the way, I’m Nate.”

“Brad.” Brad shook the kid, Nate’s hand mechanically. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had…people didn’t…it wasn’t part of his life as a vampire.

“Okay, then,” Nate said, picking up his sweatshirt from where Brad had left it on the ground, and walked away. He turned his back on Brad with no thought at all, his assumption of his safety, of Brad’s good faith evident in every line of his bearing.

Two nights later, Brad found himself apprehensively walking up to the house Nate had pointed him to. He doubted that there’s was anything a group of college students could do to hurt him, but nothing about his interaction with Nate had gone as expected, so he was more cautious than he might have been otherwise.

As he reached the front steps, Nate stepped out. He’d clearly been waiting for Brad. The sharp smell of blood followed him into the night, and Brad immediately zeroed in on the bandage around his elbow, and the grocery bag he was carrying.

“Hey! Right on time!” Nate’s voice was friendly, but he was eyeing Brad apprehensively. Brad didn’t blame him. This close, it’s evident that he was significantly taller than Nate. Their eyes were level, even though Brad was still standing a step below Nate on the porch.

Nate thrust the bag forward. “Will this be enough?”

In the grocery bag was a standard blood bag, with at least a pint of blood in it. Brad was surprised at the official equipment, especially when he could smell that the blood was clearly Nate’s. “Uh, yeah, that will be sufficient. Thank you. How did you…?”

Nate smiled and handed him the bag. “Some of my fraternity brothers are pre-med. They’ll use any excuse to get some real life practice.”

Brad nodded. Feeling awkward that Nate had gone so much trouble for him, he turned to go. Nate stopped him for the second time in their short acquaintance.

“Wait! How long will that last you?”

Brad tried to work it out. He judged by the feeling more than the human calendar. He’d last fed from someone wearing a jingle bell necklace, and it was now late February, so, “10 weeks? 12 at a stretch?”

“Okay” Nate said, and pulled out his phone. He clicked through a few screens. “Ten weeks puts us right at finals. Can we do it a little earlier? It’s a good thing I’m staying on campus this summer.” He said it more to himself than to Brad. “The last week of April? Wednesday again. Would that work for you?”

Brad nodded, almost admiring the way that Nate had pulled the rug completely out from under him for another time.

“Great,” Nate said, and gave Brad a genuinely warm smile. “See you then.”

&&&&&

Brad spends the next week in his sleeping space (it's not a _nest_, there's no one here but him, and it's more functional than homey) feeling pleasantly buzzed from drinking part of the fresh blood supply that Nate had given him.

He doesn't think about the hows or whys of some human offering up himself as feed. This has happened a few times before, but it's always been greedy, self-serving people and the agreements had all ultimately ended in Brad cleaning up carnage.

He doesn't think this time will be any different.

The next few weeks pass in a mundane haze. He hunts occasionally, partly because wants to ration Nate's gift, and partly out of sheer boredom. More than once, Rudy shows up, gently accuses him of moping, and tries to coax him out into the world with the promise of righteous violence. ("Brother, are you eating enough? Come out tonight, we'll find a pack of predatory frat boys and have ourselves a feast.") Before he knows it, it's midway through April, and Brad has to face the reality that one of three things may happen in the next week or so: 

1\. Nate was absolutely fucking with him, and that nice warm blood bag was just to get his hopes (and hunger) up, and he's gonna leave Brad back to scrounging up small animals and the occasional criminal and/or sexual predators.  
2\. Nate is doing this for his own personal gain, and Brad could very well get forever-dead if he meets up with Nate again  
3\. Nate was serious, and for reasons that Brad can't fathom, he genuinely wants Brad to feed off him, or at least keep giving his pre-med friends healthy veins to practice on.

Obviously, Brad's hoping for option 3, but he can't figure out why exactly he's so...hopeful for it.

The last Wednesday in April rolls around, and Brad wisely decides that while he's still going to meet Nate, he's doing so on a full stomach. He'd learned precious few lessons from the vamps who'd been around when he was first turned, but one of those lessons was that hunger equals weakness, and that usually equals death if you're around humans. Well-fed, one unarmed human would be no more dangerous to him than a newborn kitten. If he's well-fed, he feels more...like a person, or at least significantly less like a blood-starved maniac who's guided only by a primal need to hunt, ravage, and kill.

The ironic thing is, thanks in part to the fact that it was less than 2 decades ago (and apparently most vamps don't start losing all their human memories or emotions until later in their post-life), Brad remembers his human career choice; the weight of a weapon in his hands, the satisfaction he felt of destroying an enemy target, the near-complete emotional detachment in the face of what many people considered the atrocities of war. He tries not to dwell on these facts too much, although he sometimes entertains the idea of vampires not only being allowed in combat, but welcomed. From a practical--a tactical--standpoint, it's a great idea: they could go on untold numbers of night missions without need of NVG's or staggering under the weight of their gear, all but the most grievous of bodily injuries would heal quickly, without taking up a medic's precious time, and vampires are swifter, silent, and far more deadly than any human Marine, plus they could feed off their enemies. Sure, they'd have to sleep in specially-designed protective gear, and moving them during daylight could be a logistical challenge, but he's seen the military adapt to worse problems. Brad can't wait for all the policy-makers to stop shitting themselves in fear.

He chooses to walk to Nate's place. It gives him a chance to think, and by the time he's made it to the house, he's realized that he's actually looking forward to this. Nate reminds him somewhat of a few of the guys Brad had gone to school with, and later served with: ready to take on the world with nothing but twenty bucks, a pair of boots, and some chewing gum. Ideals that sometimes (oftentimes) conflicted with their realities, but they still kept trying.

Of course, he can't get complacent around Nate. There is still a chance, no matter however small nor how much Brad wants to ignore it, that Nate may want to get the upper hand in this situation.

Nate is sprawled out on the couch out front when Brad walks up, but he's engrossed in a book and doesn't seem to notice when Brad sits down on the arm of the couch at Nate's feet. The smell of blood is strong, and Brad notices another blood bag tucked between Nate's hip and the back of the couch. After a full minute the book in Nate's hand lowers slightly, and Nate peers over the top. "I wasn't sure you were really going to show up."

Brad shrugs and accepts the bag with a nod of thanks when Nate passes it over. "We had a deal. I plan on holding up my end of it."

"Forgive me for being forward, but is that something you do often? Make deals with humans, like 'keep me fed and I won't kill you and your entire family'?" Nate sits up, sticking a gum wrapper bookmark in his page before setting it aside. "I mean, for all you know, I could be luring you into getting tied up in our basement; I've heard that vampire blood can be a really great high for humans. Or I could just want you dead. Staked and dusted dead."

Brad considers this. "I could ask you the same thing; what are you getting out of this little arrangement?"

Nate ducks his head, so most of his face is hidden in shadow thanks to the fact that the nearest streetlight has half it's bulbs broken (which means nothing to Brad) licking his bottom lip as he does. "Why do you think?" In the space of half an inhale, Brad lunges at him, pressing Nate flat against the couch with Brad's entire bodyweight covering his. He's got both of Nate's wrists held in one hand above their heads, and his teeth bared an inch from the side of Nate's throat. He can feel Nate's pulse, and can actually see it hammering under the skin at Nate's jaw, and it speeds up when Brad hisses in his ear: "I could rip you apart right now, and there's nothing you could do to stop me."

"You're right, you could," Nate says. He sounds just as assured as he looks, and to Brad, it's downright unsettling, a human not being afraid of him. Brad is aware that Nate's dick is hot, pressed against his thigh through both their jeans, but when Nate shifts and it twitches, Brad realizes that he has his own erection, which Nate not-so-subtly tries to grind up against. "But wouldn't getting off be way more fun?"

For half a second, Brad fights the (_urgeneedwant_) to crush Nate's wrist bones into fragments in his palm while ripping his throat open. He can _feel_ the struggle in his body, running through him like a shudder.

He snarls and takes his other hand off the back of the couch, yanks the zipper down on Nate's jeans so hard he hears the stitching rip. Gets his hand around Nate's cock and grips, for a moment just enjoying the sensation of such warm flesh pressing into his cool hand. "This is what you want? You want some vampire jerking you off on a ratty couch in your front yard? That's what gets you hard?"

"No," Nate says, thrusting up into Brad's hand, "I want _you_ jerking me off."

This stills Brad's hand, and he ignores Nate's plaintive whine for a moment. The last time a human had said something like this to Brad, Brad had ended up half-drained, too weak to walk, and it had taken nearly nearly a month of Rudy showing up with fresh kills to recover. But Nate's looking at him now without any trace of murder, just outright lust. Both their dicks are still hard, and Brad can't see or feel any weapons tucked against the couch or Nate's body. Fuck it.

Interestingly, Nate doesn't beg and whimper passively, like Brad would expect. He keeps up an impressive stream of dirty talk, especially once Brad loosens his grip on Nate's hands enough that Nate can get one hand free to promptly work into Brad's pants and wrapped around his dick. He gasps and groans, of course (Brad is still excellent at this) but he also gives Brad precise directions on how he wants to be touched, and tells Brad exactly when Brad does something that Nate likes.

Brad comes just before Nate does, thanks to a particularly rough twist of Nate's fingers around the head of his cock. It's not only a physical relief, but also so welcome (it's been the better part of a decade since someone else's hand has touched him like this, instead of his own), that Brad forgets for nearly four full seconds that all he'd have to do is drop his head less than 4 inches to gain access to Nate's jugular.

"So," Nate says a few moments later, sounding way too cheerful and coherent for someone who just came so hard his eyes rolled back in his head, "same time, what, end of May?"  
Brad is so dazed, and more than a little shocked that Nate -a human- is willingly offering himself up like this that all he can say is yes.

He's got another month to think about it.  
~THE END~


End file.
